Freaking Magical!
by crocious
Summary: South Park High School's super awesome prom. Will it be a disaster? A snooze fest? Not if Bebe can help it. Main couple is my favorite, but there's also Candy and Benny. Rated T for later chapters.
1. The Setup

_**Enter Author of Kindness and Awesome. **_

**Hello, members of my favorite fandom! I present to you my newest story, '_Freaking Magical._' It's a multi-couple multi-chapter South Park fic of greatness. Inside is Candy, Benny and, of course, Style. Lots of het, hope ya'll don't mind ;)**

**This first chapter is uber short only to set the stage. The stage is South Park High School on the eve of prom. I figure, prom season, right? Why the hell not, I can live vicariously through South Park because mine was disappointingly drama-free, lol! **

**I own zero.**

"Alright, guys." Kenny McCormick slammed his lunch tray on the table and his friends jumped. "We need to talk about the elephant in the room, and for once I'm not talking about Cartman."

"EY!"

Stan rolled his eyes and tossed another Cheezy Poof at Kyle, who snickered and caught it in his mouth. Cartman looked ready to punch Kenny.

"I kid, man. Settle down. I'm talking about prom."

Kyle turned to face Kenny abruptly and the Cheezy Poof Stan launched at him landed in his frizzy orange hair. "Prom?"

"Yeah, stupid. It's three months away and Bebe's been going insane. She's making me arrange the logistics stuff."

Stan stopped putting Cheezy Poofs in Kyle's hair. "Logistics? Like what?"

Kenny sighed and took a sheet of notebook paper from his pocket. "Bebe says... transportation, dinner, table arrangements, matching her dress, time of arrival, list of fun songs, slow songs and popular songs, after parties and Kevlar vest."

"Kevlar?" Kyle asked.

"Yeah. She said if I die during prom she'll kill me three times in a row with a waffle iron."

"Man," Stan laughed. "I am so glad I'm single."

"That's another thing," Kenny said nervously. "She and Wendy decided together that asymmetry at the table is unacceptable. You all have to bring dates."

"What?" Kyle sat up abruptly, shaking several Cheezy Poofs loose from his hair. "Why do they get to decide whether or not we bring dates?"

Stan and Cartman shook their heads gravely. "You just don't understand, dude," Stan said. "They're women. They control everything."

"They're like the Jews of our sex lives," added Cartman. Kyle shot him a look.

"Your girlfriend's a fucking psycho, Kenny."

"I know. But she has the most magnificent rack."

…

"Yeah, I _know,_ baby. But-"

"But nothing, Kenny. Everyone brings a date and everyone smiles for the goddamned pictures."

"Kyle's _gay_, Bebe."

"Then he or his date will wear a dress to make it all symmetrical. And all the couples have to match. By the way, I found the most amazing dress, but it's _rosso corsa._ We need to get you a new tux."

"Wait, why won't the old scarlet scheme work?"

"Because we aren't inbred fucking hicks from Butt Fuck Nowhere, that's why! God, it's like you're trying to give me an aneurism!"

…

Cartman stared at his cell phone for an hour that night, keeping his thumb on the screen so her picture didn't fade out.

…

Stan and Kyle played video games for two hours at Stan's house. Kyle's reasons were Senioritis and a 4.38 GPA. Stan's reasons were different.

"So. Prom, huh?"

"Prom," Kyle answered, focusing on his soldier on the screen.

"Kind of a big night, huh?"

"Eh. People always make it out to be bigger than it is."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. How could it possibly live up to all the expectations people place on it?"

They went silent and shot more Nazis in the face.

"Well, any idea who you're going to ask?"

Kyle brightened and paused the game. "Actually, I had this awesome plan!"

"I like your awesome plans! They're awesome!"

"Okay, so Bebe and Wendy are demanding boy-girl-boy-girl seating, right? And they know I'm gay so I call bullshit."

"Totally."

"So my plan is this." Kyle leaned conspiratorially toward Stan. "Instead of bringing an actual date, dress up one of those blow-up dolls in a prom gown and sit next to that!"

Stan tried desperately to keep the corners of his lips down, but he let out a loud snort of laughter. "Oh my God, that's gonna be fucking incredible! Bebe's totally gonna bust a tit!"

Stan and Kyle laughed, ignoring the game paused on the TV. Kyle let his chuckles die down and he turned back to Stan.

"What about you? Any idea who you're gonna ask?"

"Some," Stan smiled. "But I think they might already have plans."

**End chapter one. Short chapter is short. Review. I update quicker when reviews flood my inbox, even if it's total hate.**

"**Quit making me look like a pussy, bitch." You are a pussy, Cartman. "At least tell them who it is so no one thinks I'm a creepy stalker freak!" Oh please. Who else could it be? These people are smarter than you give them credit for. Now go to sleep.**


	2. The Stalker

**Yes, I know it's early to update, but I felt like it. Got a problem, punk?**

**Still just building the story. It's very dialogue-heavy, sorry about that. **

**I own nothing.**

When Wendy Testaburger opened her locker on Monday, a large leather purse fell out and onto her head. Wendy yelped in surprise and picked it up gently.

"Ch-Chanel?" She whispered. Her face suddenly went red when she realized this was the exact purse she'd been eyeing at the mall with Bebe on Saturday.

"Nononononononono, no, please no." Wendy frantically pawed at the clasp and tore out the paper stuffing to find a clue, a hint, as to who left this beautiful awesome handbag in her locker.

Nothing.

Wendy backed up to her locker and sat down, pressing the bag to her face to muffle her scream.

Bebe found Wendy curled up on her side, swearing at the beautiful purse. She looked up and down the hallway, confused. Seeing no one important, she crouched down to look at her best friend, worried.

"Hey, sweetie? Whatcha doing?"

Wendy glared at her and shoved the purse in her face.

"Yeah, uh-huh. I see that. But why are you mumbling to yourself in the fetal position in the middle of the school hallway?"

"It's him again."

Bebe's patronizing grin fell from her face in alarm. "What? Are you sure?"

"It has to be. This is the exact purse I was looking at on Saturday, remember? No note, no clue, absolutely nothing!"

"Okay, calm down. We need to take this to the principal." Bebe held Wendy's arms and brought her to her feet.

"I can't! Remember when he left those amazing blue strappy heels? Principal Victoria called me a bitch and kicked me out of her office for complaining!"

"To be fair, those shoes were incredible."

"I know! I'm thinking of wearing them to prom, they totally match my dress!"

"Oh my God, they totally do! And with that silver turtle necklace? Perfection!"

"Wow, I totally didn't even think about..." Wendy paused and looked confused for a second. "No. Bebe, this is serious. I have a stalker."

"You're right. You wanna call the police? Your parents?"

"I don't know." Wendy sighed angrily at the purse. "God dammit, this would be so much easier if he had awful taste!"

…

"Esther."

"Nope."

"Red."

"Nope."

"Patty."

"Dude, really? You have no clue?"

Kyle put down his psychology textbook. "No, for once I have absolutely no idea what's going on in that messed up little head of yours. Just tell me already."

Stan smirked. "No way. I'll only tell you if you guess."

Kyle threw up his arms in exasperation. "There are 734 girls in this school. How the hell am I supposed to know which one you want to ask to prom if you don't ever hang out with them?"

"How indeed?" Stan laughed softly.

"...Wait..." Kyle's eyes widened in realization. "Wait. Oh my God. Dude!"

Stan looked up hopefully. "Yeah?"

"It's not Wendy, is it?"

Stan let his head clunk onto his desk. The study hall teacher shushed them angrily.

…

"Alright." Bebe slammed a large folder stuffed with papers onto the lunch table, startling Cartman, Stan and Kyle. Kenny came up behind his girlfriend, face screaming guilt.

"I need dates for all of you, and Kyle, so help me, if you even TRY the doll I will rip off your testicles and stuff them in your eyes."

"Kenny, dude!" Kyle looked angrily at the blonde.

"I'm sorry, man! She's really, really persuasive!"

"You thought it was funny! You laughed!"

Bebe patted her boyfriend's cheek. "You did the right thing, baby. I need real dates for everyone. Kyle, Kenny convinced me to change the seating to boy, boy, girl, girl. I had to invite Annie and Emily to the table to make it work, so be nice to them. Stan, I have a list of appropriate dates you might get along with and who I like, and Cartman, same with you." Bebe handed them sheets of lined paper. They shuffled absently through the lists and sighed.

"How come you're not on Wendy's ass about her date?" Stan grumbled.

"Wendy has offers out the yin-yang. I've been filtering them according to group compatibility and we've got it narrowed to three eligible guys, but if her stalker keeps up like this I don't even know if they'll want to ask her anymore."

Cartman choked on his soda. "Stalker?"

"Yeah, some creep has been following her around and buying the cutest accessories and stuffing them in her locker. No note, no nothing. She's freaking out."

"Oh," Cartman went white. "That... sucks."

Kyle stared hard at Cartman as Bebe babbled on and eventually ran away crying during a furious debate with herself over black or white limo. Kenny shook his head and fell heavily into his seat at the lunch table.

"Jesus," Kenny murmured, breaking Kyle's glare face. "What the hell have I gotten myself into?"

Stan patted Kenny's hand from across the table. "You gave it a good shot. A year and a half is surprisingly long, considering your girlfriend's psychotic."

Kenny looked at Stan. "What? No, dude. I mean I'm absolutely head over fucking heels in love with that girl! How the hell did I get into this mess?"

Kyle laughed. "Only you, Kenny."

The lunch bell rang and Stan, Cartman and Kenny moved to get up. Kyle grabbed Cartman's wrist and shot him an "I have blackmail and don't test me because I WILL use it" smirk and Cartman sat back down angrily. Kenny and Stan looked at them curiously, but Kyle waved them off.

"I just need to ask him something about prom," Kyle said reassuringly. Kenny and Stan hesitantly walked off.

When the lunch room cleared, Kyle leaned toward Cartman. "Enough," he said.

"Why, whatever are you talking about, Kyle?"

"Don't play dumb. That's apparently Wendy's job now. You need to grow a pair right now and ask her directly."

"What are you talking about, fag?"

"I hate you," Kyle smiled, "but I kind of owe Wendy. So you need to stop being Creeper McStalksalot and grow a pair of balls."

"Wait," Cartman said. "Wait. You actually think... will she say yes?"

"I really don't care if she says yes, no or fabulous. She doesn't deserve freaky ass anonymous stalker Cartman. At least be a man about it."

"This coming from the ginger fairy, huh?"

"Never thought you'd see the day when a gay man had more balls than you?"

"Shut up."

…

Stan couldn't sleep at all fourth period. He found this very worrying.

**End chapter 2! Crappy, I know, but I'm betting there. Trust me, I'm getting there. I couldn't wait for reviews, so I'm posting this super duper early because an 800 word story is pathetic just hanging out there.**

**Question for you! Who did you go with to prom, or who do you plan on going with?**


	3. The Turtles

**Three updates in one night. Wow. Short, yes, but still. No one's reading it yet, so no one has room to be impressed. Except Darkslayer18. I love how you read my, like, everything! Just for you I'll try to stuff it with tons and tons of gay in the next chapters! **

**Read. Review. Tell me I'm pretty. **

**I own this piece of cardboard right here.**

Stan was staring at his ceiling when his phone rang. When he heard the White Stripes ring tone, he smiled and closed his eyes, pressing the phone to his ear.

"Well, hello, gorgeous."

"Stop answering like that. You sound like a child molester."

Stan laughed. "You're calling early tonight."

"Yeah, I couldn't wait. Guess what my incredibly smart brain figured out today?"

Stan's stomach lurched uncomfortably. "What?"

"Wendy's freaky stalker is Cartman. Oh yes."

Stan paused for a beat and laughed. "You're right. Your brain is the brain of a genius General Awesome."

"Oh, like you had any clue?"

"To be honest, I don't really care."

Kyle laughed. "I owe Wendy a favor, so I told Cartman to grow a pair and ask her out already."

"That's a favor?"

"If it narrows down the suspect list for the police, absolutely. So how do you think you did on the English exam? The essay portion was a little tricky for me..."

Stan listened to Kyle talk for who knows how long. He loved hearing his best friend talk. It was their nightly ritual. Kyle would babble and vent and gossip and Stan would listen to his words slide effortlessly over one another as he got sleepier and sleepier. Finally, Stan would yawn and they would fight for a bit over who had to hang up first. Every night they did this, and every night Stan went to sleep smiling.

"Stan? Did you hear me?"

"Stan opened his eyes and tried to remember what Kyle said. "Yeah, totally."

"So?"

Pause.

"So what?"

"So who on your pre-approved list are you taking to prom?"

"I told you, Kyle. You guess 'em and I'll tell you."

"Well that just sucks all the fun out of it, doesn't it? Bebe gave me a copy of your list. Is it Sally?"

Stan sighed. "No."

"Heidi?"

"No."

"Taylor?"

"No."

"Lisa?"

"No."

"Okay, I don't think you understand what Bebe meant by pre-approved. You've said no to all the girls on this list so far."

"I'm crazy like that."

"Are you planning on asking _anyone_? Because Bebe's getting pretty psychotic."

"I don't know yet, okay? I thought I was, but things are not looking in my favor."

Kyle sighed. "Don't play the fragile ego card, dude. I've known you too long to fall into that trap. What's going on?"

Stan was silent for a bit. "Why don't you tell me who you're taking, then?"

"Butters."

Stan sat up abruptly. "What?"

"Yeah, he's single and he's one of our friends. We're not dating or anything, it's just a buddies thing. I don't even think he's allowed to be gay."

Without warning, Stan felt his eyes burn with indignant tears. "So of all the people in the world to ask to be your buddy-date, you go with _Butters_?"

"Hey, I'd have asked you, but you seemed really excited about asking Mystery Lady. Seriously, Stan, are you okay? You sound upset."

Stan bit his lip. "No, no, I'm fine. I'm just... getting a little sick, I think."

"Poor baby! I'll bring you some soup tomorrow, okay?"

Stan giggled, exhausted. "You're the best. Wait, are you joking?"

"I was, now I'm not. Get some sleep, I'll see you at school."

"Thanks."

Click.

…

Kenny was watching Bebe fall asleep in his arms. He loved the adorable way she fought with herself to keep her eyes open, finally drifting off with her eyebrows screwed together in annoyance at herself. It was so fucking cute, Kenny could barely resist laughing at her and accidentally waking her up.

This was their ritual. At 10:00, Kenny would sneak in Bebe's window and for at least an hour they would whisper and giggle quietly so as to not wake her parents. Sometimes they had sex, sometimes they just stayed silent and cuddled, but every night, without fail, Kenny would watch Bebe fall asleep, kiss her lightly and climb back out the window. Unless he happened to be dead, in which case Bebe was SOL.

Kenny kissed Bebe's brow and gently climbed out of her bed. He was about to jump out of the window when he heard her stir.

"Mmm... dun go..."

Kenny smiled and climbed back in bed, stroking her hair. "You're so freaking cute, you know that?"

"...misane?"

"Didn't catch that, baby."

"Am I insane?"

Kenny looked down. Bebe's eyes were wide open. He laughed.

"You absolutely are the most batshit insane person I've ever met."

"Jerk."

"No, it's a good thing. Do you think a sane person can deal with someone like me? Not in a million years. I'm so, so lucky you're crazy."

Bebe 'humphed' tiredly.

"I mean it. The only crazier girl I know is Wendy, and she's a fucking bitch."

Bebe hit him half-heartedly. "She means well, you soup-sucking golden bastard."

Kenny grinned. "You're dreaming right now, aren't you?"

"Of course I can turn into an umbrella, you idiot."

Kenny kissed Bebe and jumped out the window to head home. He slipped, broke his neck and died.

…

Wendy was trying on her prom dress again, a lovely blue A-line number with a halter top. She buckled in the shoes and snapped her silver turtle necklace around her neck.

Wendy stared at the necklace and smiled slightly. She'd gotten it in the 6th grade from her Secret Santa. It was a silver-coated sea turtle on a delicate chain, ending right above her breasts. She was so excited that someone knew her secret obsession. She hadn't even told Stan how much she loved turtles. But there was a blizzard the last day before Christmas break and school was canceled. She never got to thank her Secret Santa.

She smiled and looked herself up and down.

She stopped.

She looked down and swore.

"Oh, fuck me."

Dotting the blue straps, rather than the rhinestones she had initially thought, were itty bitty metal turtles.

…

Butters couldn't sleep at all that night. He was too excited that he was going to prom.

"**Jesus Christ monkey balls, could you possibly make me look like more of a pussy?" I like making you angry, Cartman. We've been over this. "But really? Turtles? That's fucking gay as hell." Whatever, Cartman. You're the creepy stalker dude. "I AM NOT!"**

**Question for YOU: If you could be BFFs with one character from South Park, who would it be? I'd totally pick Butters. I freaking love that kid.**


	4. The Beginning

**Wow, I'm going fast! Try to keep up, ya'll!**

**Thanks to Todd Moth, Screaming Insanity, Darkslayer18 and Amanda Palmer. You are my dealers and I'm a tweaking review whore. **

**I like this one, but it's gonna get intenser and better in the upcoming chapters. Woo!**

**I own at air hockey.**

Stan woke up pissed. He was having a wonderful dream about Sheila Broflovski's famous blueberry blintzes when some stupid Miley Cyrus song blared through his ears. He had always purposely set the alarm to Miley Cyrus because it served the dual purpose of making him want to jump out of bed immediately to shut it off and giving him great pleasure in slamming the alarm with a shoe.

But today, there was no sense of immediacy. No pleasure in ending the song with a heavy object. Just sleepy reluctance and a burning resentment toward the teen pop idol.

It was Kyle's turn to drive to school so Stan buttered a bagel and waited for him. He chewed moodily and tried to make his eyebrows stop fighting with each other, but it was no use. The coffee was gone, the bagel was stale and there was a calculus exam in three hours. The only thing keeping him from going back to bed and telling his mom he had SARS was that in two minutes, Kyle Broflovski would pull into the drive and honk three times.

Stan smiled and his eyebrows relaxed. As long as he had Kyle to look forward to, how bad could the day possibly be?

Just then, he heard it- the friendly, if impatient, "beep-beep beeeeeeeep" of Kyle's Intrepid. Stan grinned and almost jumped out the door.

He stopped short.

He looked in confusion at Kyle behind the window, and then again in confusion at the small blonde boy in his seat.

Kyle's eyes apologized. "Butters' car broke down and he was on the way so he asked me to pick him up."

Stan forced a grin. "That sucks, man. Sorry." He climbed into the backseat uncomfortably.

"Hey, where's the Usher, Kyle? You always play hip-hop in the morning."

Butters shrunk into himself guiltily and Kyle shrugged.

"Butters has this sound sensitivity thing or something. Don't look so guilty, dude, it's totally not a problem."

Butters sighed and relaxed and they pulled out of the drive.

The car ride was spent in absolute silence, broken only by Kyle snapping his gum every now and then. It was, by all definitions of the word, "AWKWAAAARD."

When they finally pulled into the school parking lot, all three boys breathed a sigh of relief. Almost before Kyle parked, Stan and Butters were out the door, murmuring thank yous and promises to pay him back for gas and trouble.

Butters was off like a shot, but Kyle caught Stan's wrist before he could dart off.

"Dude. Car rules. The driver doesn't have to carry his books."

Stan laughed weakly and ducked into the car to grab Kyle's book bag. He took a second to sigh and try to figure out why he was so damn close to crying.

When he reemerged, he slung the bag over his shoulder and grinned. Kyle stared quizzically at him.

"I know you were lying last night when you said you were getting sick, but I think you actually might be."

"Nah, I'm fine." Stan hoped his smile was confident and reassuring.

Kyle stared at him. "Okay..."

They walked up to school silent.

…

Bebe drove alone after getting reamed out again by her parents for her boyfriend's corpse in the yard.

…

Cartman backed away from Wendy's locker just in time for her to spot him. He tried to duck into the crowd and slip away, but angry Wendy is fast. She grabbed his shoulder and threw him up against the lockers with a bang, scattering a few chatty freshmen.

"So it's you, huh? Is this your idea of funny? Fuck you!"

"Back off, bitch! Seriously!"

"You have no idea how furious I am right now! Why the fuck are you stalking me!"

"Watch the ego, ho, it makes your ass look fat. I'm not fucking stalking you, so let go and back off!"

Wendy pressed him harder into the lockers. "What were you doing by my locker, Cartman?"

"Bebe said you had a stalker so I was just making sure they didn't leave anything dangerous for you. I'm the fucking good guy!"

"Oh please. You expect me to believe Eric Cartman did a good deed just for the hell of it?"

"No, I charge twenty bucks a week for bodyguard ser-"

Wendy shoved Cartman back and stormed off toward her class before Cartman could finish. The freshmen stopped watching and left. Cartman sighed in relief and fingered the blue satin clutch in his pocket.

He slipped the printed note inside. Maybe she'd come, maybe she wouldn't, but at least he'd know for certain now.

He fiddled with her locker as the hall slowly emptied and opened it. 11-28-07. The date her last pet turtle, Marcus, died. He smiled fondly and put the clutch on top of her history book.

…

"Are you sure you can't stay a little longer, Kenny? Damien will be sad he didn't get to see you."

"Nah, Bebe will kick my ass if I stay any longer."

"That's a shame, he missed you last time, too."

"I'm sure he's plenty entertained with Pip around. Hey, can I ask you a favor?"

"Anything, little one."

"Could you not invite Osama bin Laden to any parties for a while? I know you get this a lot, but that guy was a grade A motherfucker."

"I'll set him up in the torture room for the next month."

"Real Housewives marathon?"

"Real Housewives marathon."

"Sweet. See ya, Satan."

…

Lunch was unusually quiet. Stan wasn't talking and Kyle wasn't pushing and Cartman was staring off into space and Kenny was dead. Kyle munched his sandwich, Stan sipped his soup, Cartman pushed his mashed potatoes around and Kenny punched Hitler in the balls. For all of them, it was incredibly "AWKWAAAARD."

A green slip of paper slammed in front of Cartman's lunch tray, making everybody jump. The boys looked up at a red and furious Wendy.

"Twenty bucks. For the week."

Cartman went white. "Are... are you really that scared?"

"It's not about scared or not. He wants me to meet him tomorrow night and I want someone there to break him if he looks dangerous."

Kyle and Stan stared pityingly at Cartman.

"Why are you meeting him?" Stan asked. "Did he finally leave a note?"

Wendy tossed a small slip of paper onto the table. "Read it. Bastard printed it so I wouldn't recognize the handwriting."

"'Dear Wendy'," Stan read aloud. "'I'm sorry I haven't been very up front about this-' No shit, stalking's not up front?"

Kyle bit back a snicker and Cartman reddened.

"'But I really can't help it. I think you're awesome and cool and beautiful and please come to Shakey's Pizza tomorrow night so I can buy you a pizza and ask you something important.' You're really gonna go?"

"Now I am," Wendy said triumphantly. "I have a body guard."

Cartman blushed angrily. "I don't think I can-"

"Too late. You offered, I hired you, you're coming." Wendy stormed off to talk to Bebe and Heidi.

When she was out of earshot, Kyle laughed and Stan shook his head.

"You are such a fucking idiot, dude," cried Kyle.

"Shut up!"

"No, seriously, Cartman. This is the dumbest shit you've pulled in a while. How the hell are you gonna get out of this one?"

"He can fake his own death," Stan offered.

"Or put a hit on Wendy!"

"Or hide her in a bomb shelter for a week!"

"Ha fucking ha, you guys." Cartman stood up. "Screw you guys, I'm going to home room." He picked up his tray and threw it out. He hadn't eaten more than two bites.

As soon as he was gone, Stan went silent again.

Kyle's grin faded into a scowl. "Okay, are you being serious right now? Because you're starting to worry me."

"Sorry," Stan murmured.

"Don't fucking apologize! We all have bad days, but I can't help you unless you tell me what's up! Please, for the love of God tell me-"

Stan cut Kyle off by pressing his forehead to his friend's. "You're driving me insane."

Kyle's face went from shock to hurt in record time.

"That's not fair. Just because you're having a bad day-"

"No, Kyle. You are literally driving me insane. I don't know what else to do. I've tried dating around. I've tried action movies. I've tried church. You're not leaving me a whole lot of options here."

"What are you talking about? What did I do?"

Stan sighed and put his hand on Kyle's neck. "I hate hip hop. How come you turn it off for him and not for me?"

"What?"

"And he gets shotgun? I call bullshit."

"Wait, are you talking about Butters?"

"And you never thought to ask me if I would go with you? We've been friends for years."

The lunch bell rang and every other table emptied. Stan and Kyle stayed, ignoring the giggles of underclassmen as they headed to their classrooms.

Kyle stood up, his kicked puppy expression cutting like knives in Stan's chest.

"You have someone already. You can't blame me for wanting you to be a man and ask her instead of taking the easy way out and going with me."

"You want me to be a man? Okay, here we go. Kyle Broflovski, go out with me."

"What?"

…

Kenny wiped placenta off his chin and got dressed to meet his girlfriend at the movies.

**Ha! I knew it would get here eventually! It's a bit soon for my taste, but no worries. Nothing is peachy perfect.**

"**I'd like to talk about how you make me feel hurt." No thank you, Cartman. "EY! I'm being sensitive and honest, you fucking Jew!" Please, Cartman. Not in front of the nice people.**

**Question to Reader McClickyballs: Which South Park character, major, minor or inanimate, are you most like? I'm a Kyle, fer sure. Minus hip hop love. I'm Jewish and almost gingery and very, very awesome. Sometimes I wish I was black, but mostly because I, like Kyle, have zero rhythm at all. It MUST be a Jewish thing. Word, yo.**


	5. The Hellstone

**BAM! Still got it!I know you didn't have time to miss me me because I AM AWESOME and got this out in a couple of hours! **

**Thanks to Todd Moth, Darkslayer18, ScreamingInsanity and EricThePerson. Todd, I totally undestand what you mean by too much rhythm. When my mom dances, it's like she's trying to dance to three songs at once! Lol!**

**Ownership is an illusion.**

"Kyle Broflovski, go out with me."

"What?"

"You heard me. Go out with me. Let me be your boyfriend."

Kyle jumped back angrily. "That's not funny, Stan."

"Who's joking?" Stan stood up and held out his arms. "I want to be with you more than anything in the world. Please."

"You haven't made fun of me a single time since I came out of the closet."

"So what makes you think I'd start now? Kyle, you're freaking magical! You're brilliant and funny and we're totally in sync on almost everything and when you talk I can feel my lungs stop working which is _so_ unhealthy but I can't care because it's because of you. Seriously. Sometimes I say stupid shit just to hear you rant for ten minutes. What do you call it when you call someone just to listen to their voice, Kyle? Because you're so damn cute I can't help myself."

"Why didn't you tell me you were-"

"Because I don't care if I'm straight, bi or fabulous. I'm in love with my best friend. And ordinarily it would be fucking adorable how oblivious you are, but you have been driving me insane this last week and I'm not exactly sure how much more I can possibly take before I snap. Say something, God damn it!"

Stan stared hard at Kyle, panting slightly. He was surprised to see that Kyle, rather than jumping into his arms or pushing him off entirely, was crying.

"K-Kyle?"

"Stanley Marsh, you fucking asshole. Why are you doing this?"

"What?"

"Don't do this to me. Please don't do this to me."

Stan put his arms down. "What are you talking about?"

"We're best friends, Stan! We're a fucking 19!"

"19? What?"

"19, as in Blackjack. I LOVE what we have! It's awesome and stupendous and wonderful and yeah, I care a lot more for you than a best friend should, but you can't ask me to bet everything on a two!"

"Stop listening to your dad, seriously."

"Stan, I love you. I do. I love you so much it's hard for me to stand sometimes. But I can't risk losing you, okay? It would fucking kill me if it got too complicated for us and I couldn't talk to you anymore. I'm serious, I don't know if I could survive losing you."

Stan stepped toward Kyle timidly. "I don't know about you, but I'm not going anywhere."

Kyle looked away and wiped his eyes. "Please understand. Please, I'm begging you. Try to understand what I'm saying."

Stan pulled Kyle into a tight, one-sided hug. "I do, Kyle. I do."

…

"You're late," Bebe said crossly as Kenny made his way up the steps of the theater.

"Sorry, the big guy wanted to have a cocktail. How was your day?"

Bebe ran to her boyfriend and buried her face in his chest. Taken aback, Kenny could do nothing but stroke her hair as she cried.

"Shhh," he murmured. "It's okay. I'm here now. I'm okay."

"Every damn time you do that, Kenny. Every damn time." Bebe broke out in a fresh wave of sobs. Kenny brought both of them down to a sitting position and held her, whispering and stroking her hair.

"I always come back. Always."

Bebe pushed herself angrily away and glared at Kenny. "Yeah, but one day you won't! And where does that leave me? Because I REFUSE to stop waiting for you, Kenny McCormick! I'll never stop waiting for you to come back!"

Kenny stared in horror. "Are you... are we breaking up?"

Bebe blinked. "What? No, stupid. We're not breaking up. But I need some little reassurance, you know? Something that lets me know for sure you're coming back."

"My word isn't enough?"

"Kenny, what's the most sacred vow any two people can ever make?"

"'Til death do us part?'"

"And what happens all the time to us?"

"...death do us part."

"I love you, but I need something solid, something I can touch. Okay? And I don't know how, maybe it's not possible, but I won't be able to sleep until I know for sure you'll be coming back."

Bebe went silent and stared at her hands. Kenny smiled and reached into his pocket. He wiped something off on his jeans and put it in Bebe's palm.

"Here."

Bebe opened her hand and stared at the jagged object. "A... rock?"

"It's Hellstone. For a while I experimented with hell and earth. Stupid stuff, like, can I bring Sudoku to hell? Or, can I take pictures? That stuff. And I realized that if I put something in my mouth before I die or come back, whatever it is comes with me. Hellstone is, like, everywhere-"

"Woah woah woah," Bebe smiled. "Let's not ignore this. You experimented by putting random objects from the ground in your mouth? Are you retarded?"

"It was an ancient Greek and Roman custom! Totally legit!"

"Oh, Kenny."

"ANYWAY," Kenny continued, "the next time I die I'll talk to Satan and he'll make it glow red, okay? Because this stuff gets super mega ultra red."

"But what if you get into Heaven?"

Kenny smirked and nuzzled Bebe's neck. "We'll just have to make sure there's no chance, won't we?" Bebe giggled and leaned her head on Kenny's shoulder.

They sat like that for a while until Bebe finally spoke.

"So this super mega ultra red. Is it _rosso corsa_?"

…

"So what are we looking for exactly?"

"He's been doing this since 6th grade. He's got to be someone from school. Look for mean, retarded creeper faces from school."

Cartman sighed and looked at Wendy. She was in full predatory mode in their booth. Her eyes darted around the restaurant and she hadn't blinked in a worryingly long time. She leaned over the table like she was ready to launch herself at someone and her fingernails bit into the wood. If she were an animal, Cartman swore her hackles would be raised.

"Look! There's Craig!"

"Do you really think Your stalker would bring Token, Tweek and Clyde to meet you?"

Wendy deflated a little. "What about Dougie?"

"Dougie works here."

"Right. So it's the perfect set up!"

"Chill out, psycho. When he's here, you'll know."

Wendy sighed and fell back in her seat, crossing her arms. "This is driving me insane. And I'm so freaking hungry!"

Cartman signaled Dougie over. "What are you in the mood for?"

Wendy started. "What? No, I didn't mean that."

"You look like a veggie-lover's girl. I disagree."

Wendy smiled. "Meat-lovers for you? I should have known. Do you know what they do to those animals before they slaughter them?"

"If I cared it wouldn't be so delicious, would it?"

Surprisingly, Wendy laughed. Cartman stared at her in awe.

"You're so right. Don't tell anyone, but I have this insane weakness for bacon."

Cartman grinned. "That's not a weakness. That's common fucking sense. Bacon is freaking magical."

"I know, right? Bacon even makes French food taste good!"

"Wait... do you mean British?"

"Who cares!" Wendy laughed loudly and Cartman looked around to see if the real Wendy was anywhere to be seen.

Dougie came up to the table. "Welcome to Shakey's Pizza, how can I shake up your evening."

Cartman grinned. "One vanilla shake, one chocolate shake and a medium pizza with extra bacon."

"Triple bacon," Wendy added, smiling.

"Triple bacon." Cartman smiled back.

"An Oreo pair and three little piggies coming right up."

…

"Over my dead body is my son going to prom with a boy!"

"Gee whiz, dad, calm down. It's just a-"

"Don't you tell me to calm down! Linda, how many times have we told him he's not allowed to be gay?"

"Sixteen times in the last month."

"Sixteen times in the last month! But I guys that wasn't enough, was it?"

"B-but, I'm NOT gay! I'm just going with some friends!"

"That's how it starts, isn't it, Linda? First you go out with your friends, then you accidentally drink out of your buddy's glass and then before you know it you're on your knees in some filthy bathroom stall snorting lines of cocaine off your best friend's penis! Absolutely not! Not my son! Butters, you are grounded!"

"F-for how long?"

"Until you can tell us with a straight face that you're not going to have sex with Kyle!"

"Dad, Mom, I swear I am not going to have sex with Kyle."

"..."

"WHAT WAS THAT LOOK, YOUNG MAN?"

"How DARE you make a face at us!"

"Go to your room, Butters!"

"Oh Jesus."

…

"Alright, so this stalker guy. What do we know about him?"

"We know he's creepy and stalkery and has great taste in accessories."

"Wendy, that could be literally anyone. What else do we know?"

Wendy took a bite from her third slice of pizza. "Hesh been om agaim off agaim fo' six year," she said without swallowing. Cartman felt his heart thud menacingly against his chest.

"Anything else?"

Wendy chewed thoughtfully and looked away, embarrassed.

"What is it?"

"He, um. He knows I love turtles."

"What?"

"Turtles. I love them. I think they're awesome and not even Bebe knows I love them."

"Wait. Your turtle-love is... a secret?"

"Well... yeah. It's kind of, like, I can be whoever people want me to be, right? But I need something that's mine alone when I come home, something that other people don't know about."

"So you've never told anyone you like turtles?"

"No. And somehow this asshole knows about them! And, well, you. Apparently. How _did_ you know?"

"Magic."

Wendy looked at Cartman suspiciously and sipped her vanilla milkshake.

…

Stan waited for two hours for his phone to sing White Stripes to him. At midnight he gave up and fell asleep, crying gently.

**Oh dear! Poor Stan! What's he gonna do? **

**Don't worry. Butters is still going to prom.**

"**Hey, did you tell them about the milkshake thing?" No, Cartman, I didn't have the room without making it look kitschy. "Stop talking Jewish." Stop being racist. "So when we were at Shakey's, Wendy and me-" Wendy and _I_. We're not barbarians. "Whatever. We found out that your milkshake tastes twice as good if you drink vanilla and chocolate at the same time, so we got four straws and double shook it up!" It was nauseating to watch, so I spared the readers the diabetes-inducing details. "Bitch." Bastard.**

**Question for YOU! What's your favorite South Park episode ever? I'm epically torn between "Raisins" and the "200/201" pair. "Raisin's" is my rainy day episode, Butters' monologue toward the end makes me feel happy about whatever shit is going on. "200/201" are perfect examples of the South Park at its greatest- offensive, hilarious, outrageous and somehow, almost perfectly, messed up. I want to see them uncensored! :(**


	6. The Grapevine

**This is the bridge chapter. Through nameless freshmen you shall learn the latest gossip. Next chapter takes place two weeks later, so this is just the basic going-ons at South Park High.**

**I own part share in a bridge in Panama.**

"Did you hear? Stan Marsh is gay!"

"The quarterback? Oh my God, no way!"

"I heard that too. And he's in love with that Jewish kid, the one with the curly hair."

"Kyle Broflovski? That so totally figures, they're, like, always together."

"Wait, I just saw them this morning. They drove separately, are they not dating?"

"I dunno. It's weird, isn't it?"

"Do you think that's why he keeps sending Kyle flowers in class? Like, classic wooing and all?"

"I heard Stan serenaded him during study hall."

"Really? That's so sweet! What did Kyle say?"

"He ran out and skipped the rest of the day. He must have been embarrassed."

"Why? I think that's the most romantic thing ever!"

"I'll never understand guys."

"And I heard that fat kid is dating the senior class president."

"No way! I thought Wendy hated Cartman!"

"Something about pizza and turtles. I don't know, I heard it from Dougie."

"Is he ever gonna make a move on Butters? It's starting to get a little sad."

"He actually tried. He asked Butters to the movies and the kid freaked out and went on some deluded rant about Jesus and ran away."

"What a freak."

"Yeah. Is he gay or straight? I totally can't tell."

"Me either. He acts like such a queer, but he's totally into chicks. You think he's still metrosexual?"

"Or super deep in the closet."

"At least he's a senior. College should sort him out."

"Yeah. 'There's a time and a place for everything...'"

"And it's apparently the middle of the hallway. Sheesh, when will that Stevens girl and that pervert cool it? It's like they're still in the honeymoon phase, it's sickening."

"You just say that because you're jealous. It's totally sweet."

"I'm not jealous, I just don't think the middle of school is the place to lick each others' faces off. Uber grodo."

"Ooh, she's storming off. What do you think it is this time? Place your bets, ladies."

"He ordered the wrong flowers for prom."

"He grabbed her boob."

"He reserved the wrong color limo."

"How sad is it that we know what they fight about? They really need to keep it down at school."

"No kidding. It's like, keep it at home."

"That's what I'm saying! Private life home, public life here."

"Right, because if you bring it to school, you're gonna get gossiped about."

"Oh gawd. I hate gossipy people."

"I know! They're totally the worst!"

**Thoughts, Cartman? "Lame! I wish you would have explained everything like a normal person, not through stupid gossip!" I know. But these parts are just important for moving the story along efficiently, they aren't the plot. "Still, you could have told them how I romantically swept Wendy off her feet and demanded she be mine and she agreed because I am a macho Mister Studley." After the pizza place Cartman convinced Wendy the stalker would leave her alone if he saw she was dating him. It was trickery and it was wrong. "Psh. Whatever." Why the hell does she put up with you?**

**Question for Reader: How did you discover South Park? My friend convinced me to watch an episode and I freaked out, like, "The ONE episode I see they kill off a main character! I can't watch this, I'm bad luck!" And he was like, "No, that's Kenny, he always does that." Lol!**


	7. The Wooing

**Last chapter was super short. This one is also short, but not as much. It's really starting to pick up, so buckle in and get ready. **

**Thanks to Todd Moth, Darkslayer18, somethingcool, fiona868 and RedInkMagic. I love getting reviews, it's super validating! And awesome. Thank you so much, guys! I... I love you.**

**School internet is slow and I hate it.**

**I don't own South Park, unless you define ownership as Matt and Trey do in episode 609, Free Hat. Then all your South Park are belong to me.**

_Two Weeks Later_

"Kyle Broflovski, go to prom with me." Stan proffered a bouquet of roses from his knee.

"Knock it off Stan," Kyle said. "People are staring."

Stan looked around the lockers. People were indeed staring. A lot. He shrugged.

"Maybe you can explain to them why you keep shooting me down."

Kyle grabbed his psychology textbook and slammed his locker shut. "I'm getting sick of repeating myself. We're friends. I don't want to ruin that."

Stan stood up dejectedly. "Really, Kyle? Because you haven't called me once in two weeks. You avoid me in class, you drive to school by yourself now, for God's sake, you don't even eat lunch at our table anymore."

Kyle stormed angrily past. "I'm not talking about this now. I have to get to class."

Stan grabbed his wrist and stared him in the eye. "Fair warning. What's the last thing you remember me ever giving up on?"

Kyle stared back, his eyes watering. "Just let it go, Stan."

"Don't count on it."

Kyle tore himself away and practically bolted to his classroom. Stan signaled a few other players from the football team and they gathered around him.

"You guys ready?"

…

Meanwhile, Cartman and Wendy were shouting at each other in the parking lot again.

"How can you possibly say that? You are so insensitive!"

"What? It's true! There isn't a single funny female comedian in the world!"

"I thought you loved Sarah Silverman!"

"Jew!"

"I can't believe you!"

"Come on, don't be such a bitch!"

"I HATE you, Eric Cartman!"

"You too, Wendy Testaburger!"

Wendy stormed off. When she was a few yards away, she stopped, paused, and stormed back angrily.

"What time does the movie start?"

"7:20. Pick you up at 6:30?"

"Sure." She stormed away again, but it was somehow less dramatic than the first storm.

…

Engrossed in his textbook, Kyle didn't hear the snapping until it was too late. When he finally looked up, his entire class was staring at him and snickering. He panicked and looked around until his eyes landed on Stan Marsh and four other football players standing at the front of the classroom. Blood filled his face painfully fast.

Stan grinned and held up his hand to the group. They shifted bashfully and started to sing.

"Woah-oh-oh-oh, for the longest time. Woah-oh-oh, for the longest time."

Kyle started gathering his books together when Stan ran up and grabbed his hand.

"If you said goodbye to me tonight, there would still be-" Stan stopped abruptly as Kyle's palm slapped his cheek.

The room went silent.

Kyle grabbed his things and ran out the door.

…

"And it's like, I love him, but I hate him, so, so much."

Wendy was complaining to Bebe in homeroom. Bebe stroked her glowing necklace absently and nodded.

"You know what? I should dump him. He puts me through so much, it's totally not fair!"

Bebe nodded sympathetically and stroked the bright red stone in the necklace some more."

"It should be simpler, right? Like, I shouldn't be having these feelings if I love him, right? It should be simple, like what you and Kenny have."

Bebe stopped stroking the necklace and paused. She laughed. "I'm sorry, did you just say Kenny's and my relationship is _simple_?"

"Well," Wendy faltered, "Yeah. It is, isn't it?"

"Oh, honey," Bebe laughed. "AI algorithms aren't as complicated as us. We make fun of Rubik's Cubes for being stupid. M Night Shymalan couldn't dream of our relationship."

"But you love each other," Wendy said. "That makes it easy, right?"

"Oh, we do love each other. Very, very much. But that doesn't make it easy."

Bebe smiled and stared at her necklace. "Do you know what this is? Kenny died yesterday. This rock is the only reassurance I have on this earth that he'll be coming back." The stone, as if in response, pulsated a deep red light.

"What is it?"

"When you get married, you promise to stay with the person until they die. For me, that is the easiest promise in the world. Not only do I love Kenny more than anything else, he dies every week! You call that commitment?" She laughed and Wendy blushed.

"I love him so much. But he makes me wait for him like a damn army wife. Can I trust that he'll still love me when he comes back? Or that he'll come back at all? I _have _to. I don't have a choice. You'd think that would make it easier, but it doesn't. It kills me."

"I'm... I'm sorry."

"I love him so much, Wendy. But love doesn't make anything easy, you know?"

Wendy stared at her. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I understand."

…

Stan ran to follow Kyle out to his car.

"Kyle, would you please stop?"

Kyle spun around, tears in his eyes. "No, _you_ stop! You don't get to come in and just ruin everything, Stan! You don't have that right!"

"What do you want me to do, huh?" Stan retorted furiously. "Just sit and pretend I'm not in love with you and everything is all hunky-dory?"

"Yes! That's exactly what I want you to do! I've been doing it for three years!"

Stan grabbed Kyle's hand. "I'm sorry, Kyle. I really, really am. But you don't have to pretend anymore, okay? Neither of us do."

Kyle sobbed. "I just want things to go back to the way they were."

"What, you secretly in love with me and me secretly in love with you and both trying hard to be just friends when all we really want is to be together all the time?"

"Stop. It's not that simple."

"Yes it is! I love you! You love me! Screw the rest of the world, let's just be together all the time for the rest of our lives!"

Kyle stopped crying and threw up on Stan's shoes.

…

"Cartman! Come here!"

Cartman turned to see Wendy calling his name in the hall, fuming and shaking in anger.

"No!"

"Right now!"

"Fuck you!"

Wendy stomped over and glared at him. "I hate you, Eric Cartman."

"Yeah?"

"But I love you. I don't know why and it's pissing me the fuck off, but I love you. So I'm not going anywhere, okay? As much as we fight and want to kill each other, I'm gonna stay right here and try to make it work."

Cartman took a step back in shock and fumbled with his mouth to find suitable words.

"Say something, you idiot."

"I..."

"What?"

"I..."

"Today, asshole."

"I gave you the necklace."

Time stood still.

Wendy processed.

Her eyes widened.

"What?"

"I gave you the neck-" Wendy slapped Cartman's cheek.

Cartman stared at her. Wendy stared back, eyes leaking fear and hatred.

She turned.

She ran.

She left.

**Voila! It's taken longer, for some reason. I think my uber frequent updates wrote a check it'll be very hard to cash, but I'm trying! Next chapter has Sheila. I love Sheila.**

**Cartman? "That fucking hurt!" Good to talk to you too.**

**Question for you! How do you watch South Park? On new episode nights, I pop some corn and watch it almost straight, and I text my darling friend Nick the entire time so we can talk about it. After it's over I watch it again straight through. It's a little ritual. I notice new things and memorize scenes that make me laugh. My family thinks I'm strange.**


	8. The Mother

**I know, a full day after? I'm so inexcusably slow! But I've got some serious momentum going. It shouldn't be too much longer.**

**Thank you to the wonderful reviewers who make my life worth living! Darkslayer18, ScreamingInsanity, and I cleverly saw through RedInkMagic's disguise. Thanks guys!**

**Gotta make my mind up, which seat can I take. GRAH! STUCK IN MY BRAINS!**

**I want to own South Park.**

Stan sped the entire way back to Kyle's house. After Kyle threw up on him, he had almost passed out. Panicking, Stan had carried him bridal style to his own car, accidentally dropping several probably unimportant papers from Kyle's bag. Kyle had protested weakly, barely able to keep his eyes open and acting so damned adorable Stan wanted to swoon.

They pulled into the Broflovski driveway and Stan ran out to grab Kyle before even turning off the ignition. Kyle had started to mumble incoherently and Stan was freaking out.

Almost immediately after Stan remembered and grabbed his keys, a furious Sheila Broflovski stomped out to meet them. Stan supported Kyle and braced himself.

"Just what the hell do you boys think you're doing? Get back to school this instant! You want to fail your classes and not be able to graduate?"

Stan blushed and looked at the ground rather than the five foot nothing monster in front of him. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Brovlovski, Kyle got sick so I brought him home." Kyle kept mumbling the same two incoherent syllables.

Sheila's face went from furious to disbelief to panic faster than Stan had time to process. She ran up to Kyle and held his white face between he palms.

"Kyle? Bubbele? Sweetie, talk to Mama."

Kyle kept mumbling over and over. Sheila and Stan half carried him inside and up to his bedroom.

Stan stood awkwardly by the door as Sheila bustled about, fluffing her son's pillows and tucking him in tight enough to make a burrito jealous. Kyle kept mumbling, but he sounded annoyed now.

"I'm going to warm up some soup for you, okay, bubbee?" Shelia kissed Kyle's forehead and hurried downstairs leaving Stan and Kyle alone.

Stan shuffled his feet around and Kyle mumbled more insistently. Finally, he thought he might want to pay attention to Kyle's ramblings and moved closer.

"My... ar... my... ar..."

"What's that, Kyle?"

"My... fucking... car... asshole..."

Stan laughed nervously. "I'm sure it'll be fine overnight."

"No... I need... books in the... the trunk..."

Sheila bustled in carrying a bowl of broth that appeared, judging by the subtle hiss it emitted, to be magma-hot.

"Mom..." Kyle murmured. "My car... still at school..."

Sheila put the soup on Kyle's night stand and kissed him on his forehead. "Don't you worry, baby. Stan and I will get it for you, okay?" She smiled warmly at Stan.

Stan forced a grin.

…

Wendy had run out of school. Cartman decided not to follow. His cheek stung enough and he didn't need his balls injured as well.

Instead, Cartman loitered around the largely uninhabited regions of the school, making sure to keep himself in the blind spot of the school's security cameras as only a pro knows how. He wandered absently, not wanting to be by himself long enough to start thinking, but hating the idea of going to English class more.

Eventually, he found himself wandering outside, to the much abused school baseball diamond. The sun gleamed off the aluminum bleachers and he swore a bit at the sky for being just the right shade of blue to piss him off. He laid down on a sun scorched bleacher and closed his eyes.

…

-Bebe, could you tell everyone I'm sick? I'm going home.-

-Sure, Wendy. Did something happen?-

-Cartman's the anonymous stalker.-

-Really!-

-Yeah.-

-But that's good, isn't it? That means it's not some creeper retard and you're already in love with him!-

-I thought I was.-

-If you think you are, you are.-

-Then I DID. I DID love him. But I don't anymore.-

-Why not?-

-He terrified me for six years! I mean, I know Cartman's rough around the edges, but he WATCHED me for six years and probably got off on how scared I was that someone was going to come through my window and kill me.-

-It's Cartman. That's probably just his way of being sweet.-

-This was an awful idea. I don't want to be alone with him anymore, who knows what he's capable of.-

-Well, he's capable of genocide.-

-Yeah, he is.-

-And kidnapping-

-Yeah-

-And torture.-

-Yeah! Why the hell did I think I loved him?-

-That's my point. You know all that about him and you still loved him.-

-I'm messed up.-

-Yes, you are. In the perfect way for Cartman.-

-Just tell everyone I'm sick, okay?-

-Okay.-

…

Stan and Sheila drove in silence for a while. Stan kept his hands glued to the steering wheel and Sheila drummed her fingers across the back of her hand.

"Stan," she finally said, "is everything alright with you and Kyle?"

Stan ignored her and kept driving.

"Stan?"

He bit his lip and sped a little faster.

"Stanley, that's my son. Tell me what's going on."

Stan pulled over to the side of the road abruptly and violently shoved the gearstick into 'Park.' He unbuckled and turned angrily in his seat to face Sheila.

"Mrs. Broflovski," he said, "I'm in love with your son."

Shelia blinked.

"I'm absolutely out of my mind in love with him and he says we're like blackjack or something and he won't talk to me and I've been going insane trying to make him love me but he keeps slapping me and I know I should stop but I've never given up on anything and I've never felt this strongly about anyone because your son is the best person I know and not talking to him every night is killing me, Sheila. It literally feels like he's squeezing my heart and I don't know how long it'll take for it to pop and just kill me."

Stan paused and sighed. "I almost wish it would, because this whole unrequited love thing hurts so, so much. So that's what's going on, Sheila."

Stan closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose to calm down. After a while, he heard a small sigh.

"God damn it."

Stan opened his eyes, expecting to get reamed out and getting ready to defend himself.

Sheila calmly rubbed her temples and sighed again. "Please tell me you already told your mother."

"Um," Stan said intelligently, "no?"

"Shit."

Stan sat up in surprise. Sheila Broflovski _never_ swore. "What?"

"Sharon told me the other day that you were going to come out soon and she asked me for some advice. If she finds out you told me before her she'll be furious with me."

Stan giggled nervously. "I'm sorry, I actually really didn't mean to say all that. It kind of slipped out."

"Talk to your mother before she finds out I know, okay, sweetie?"

"Wait. Mom knew?"

Sheila gave Stan an ingratiating smile. "Of course. A mother always, _always _knows."

Stan twisted his hands. "And, um. What does... what does she think?"

"She asked me that about Kyle. This is a conversation you need to have with your mother. But you don't have to worry about her being angry or disappointed or anything. She's your mother. She always will be."

Stan smiled and pulled back out onto the road.

…

"Hey, dude."

Cartman opened his eyes and shielded his face until the sunny blonde head came into focus.

"The hell do you want, Kenny?"

Kenny sat by Cartman's feet and sighed.

"Just came back. Hell had kind of a busy week. Bebe says you and Wendy got into a fight."

"Get the fuck away from me."

"You know stalking her was creepy and wrong and it freaked her out, right?"

"I wasn't stalking her."

"You were stalking her. And it scared the shit out of her. And you should apologize."

"I hate you."

"No you don't."

Cartman angrily stood up. "I don't need this, Kenny. I'm going home."

"Cartman," Kenny got to his feet lazily. "You're an asshole. You're a sadistic, manipulative, racist asshole. You can count the people who like you on one hand and the people who love you on the other. I don't understand why you would try to make that number lower. You're too narcissistic to be that self destructive."

"Fuckface."

"Wendy is a good person with awful taste. She seems to like people like you. People like her are rare. People like you are rare. You owe it to both of you to make this right."

"Fuck off, you poor piece of crap."

"I'll take that to be Cartman for 'I hear what you are saying, Kenny, and I recognize the wisdom of your incredible words and sexy body.'"

"I hate you so much."

…

Butters spent the whole day trying to avoid Dougie and his carnation.

**I feel I should clarify. FF won't let me use the funky triangle brackets to signify texting. So that part with no punctuation between Bebe and Wendy was texting. Wendy and Bebe were texting each other.**

**Cartman, how do you feel about this? "God dammit, Hannah! I'm not a fucking vagina!" No. You're a dick. "So stop making me look like a weak ass woman!" Watch it, buddy. I can get Wendy to do something unspeakable to you. "I hate you so much."**

**Question: Who are your favorite and least favorite SP couples? **


	9. The Andrew

**Ah, it feels nice to update! Even if it's at one in the morning. I'm a sleepy panda.**

**Thanks be to Darkslayer18, Amanda Palmer and ScreamingInsanity. I love reviews!**

**Give me your South Park.**

"You know, Stan," Sheila said as she climbed out of Stan's car into the parking lot. "I'm glad it's you and not anyone else."

"Yeah," Stan replied bitterly. "I wish Kyle felt the same way."

Sheila smiled. "Don't give up just yet. My baby has a brain in his skull."

…

Cartman found himself once more outside Wendy's window. But this time he stayed on the ground and called her name, hoping, for once, she'd see him.

"Wendy! Wendy! Hey!"

Silence.

"You're car's in the driveway, Wendy. I know you're there!"

Silence.

"Just come out, already! I'm seriously!"

Silence.

"Iiiiiii'm sailing a..."

"-way SHIT!"

Cartman grinned. "Can I please talk to you?"

"No!"

"Just for a minute. Please."

"Fuck you!"

"If you don't start listening to me right now I will serenade you. You have heard me sing."

There was a pause. Finally, Wendy's window flew open and she leaned out and screamed at him.

"I hate you, Eric Cartman!"

"I know," he said sadly. "I deserve it."

"I've barely started this list of things you deserve to happen to you!"

"Wendy, I'm sorry. Can you please come down here so we can talk?"

Wendy fumed for a second before slamming her window shut. Cartman waited hopefully on the lawn for a few minutes before the front door finally opened. Wendy crossed her arms against the cold and clutched something in her fist. She walked up to Cartman and waited expectantly.

"Wendy, I'm sorry. I lied to you. I made you feel unsafe. I made you cry. I feel so, so awful for that."

Wendy harumphed.

"We belong together. Ever since third grade. We're perfect for each other! I'm sorry I hurt you, but we belong together! Even you know that. I promise, I'm never going to do something that stupid again. I love you!"

Wendy stayed silent and huffed a cloud into the mountain May air. Finally, she sighed.

"It's not enough."

Cartman's heart landed in his shoe. "What?"

"I said it's not enough. I'm not doing this." Wendy grabbed her ex-boyfriend's hand and closed his meaty palm over something surprisingly old, yet familiar. "Goodbye, Eric."

Wendy turned and walked back inside. Cartman opened his palm and stared at the cheap little 50 cent turtle necklace he's bought six years ago. His eyes burned.

"Fine! Fine, you know what? I take it back! I never loved you, Wendy, you bitch! I hate you!"

Wendy appeared out her window again. "I hated you the moment I met you, Eric Cartman! And I never stopped!"

"I hope you go to hell!"

"Fuck you, asshole!" The window slammed shut.

Cartman felt something hot and wet run down his cheek as he clutched the cheap little necklace to his chest.

The window opened again and he looked up hopefully.

"I'm keeping the shoes," Wendy called angrily.

The window slammed shut.

…

"Ky?" Stan knocked quietly and walked into his best friend's bedroom. "Kyle, I brought you your favorite get-well noms. You hungry?"

The lump on Kyle's bed stirred softly.

"S-Stan? I can't move."

Stan rushed in and dropped the Burger King sack on the floor. "What? You're not catatonic, are you? Kyle, don't go toward the light! No matter what the voices say, stay right here with me, okay? Don't leave me! Please!"

Kyle turned an exhausted face toward Stan. "You're stupid. I can't move because Mom wrapped me up too tight."

Stan blushed. "Oh. Well."

"Well?"

"Hm?"

"Can you unwrap me?"

Stan blushed harder. "R-really? Right now?"

"The blanket, Stan."

"Oh. Right."

He gingerly unfolded the comforter until Kyle's arms were free. Kyle wriggled out and immediately stripped his shirt, throwing it into the corner of his bedroom.

"This doesn't mean anything," Kyle laid back down weakly. "I'm just too hot."

"Your mom's too hot," Stan blurted out before he could fully register his go-to comeback. He slapped his hand over his mouth as Kyle giggled.

"I'm starving."

"Good news," Stan said, blushing. "I brought IT."

"You mean IT?"

"Yes sir I do."

"How did you sneak IT past my mom?"

"Through trickery," grinned Stan, "and deceit." He grabbed the Burger King sack and produced two greasy packages of slimy unidentifiable meat smushed between bacon, yellow chemicals made to pass as dairy product and soggy old bread. Insofar as it is possible for a half-asleep face to grin giddily and giggle like a school girl, this is what Kyle's face did.

"You're my hero, Stan Marsh."

Stan smiled.

…

"What do you MEAN you don't take reservations more than a week in advance? Just write the fucking note down! No, I will NOT calm down, _Andrew_, I will continue to scream like this until you agree to put us down for ten people at eight o'clock on June 4th near the _bar_ but opposite the _bathrooms_ and have _red_ candlesticks, not white and- hello? Andrew? FUCK!"

Kenny bit back a smile as he watched his girlfriend dissolve into hysterics.

"What happened? Why does everyone think I'm crazy? I just want prom to be perfect!"

Kenny beckoned her to sit down on his ratty couch. "It's going to be fine, Bebe."

Bebe angrily paced the living room, ignoring the open spot next to Kenny. "_Fine_ is unacceptable! _Fine_ means we won't remember prom in twenty years! It's going to be perfect! It's going to be incredible! It's going to be _freaking magical_ and so HELP me God, if it's anything but I will destroy Andrew!"

"You've never even met him. You called him literally three minutes ago."

"It'll still be his fault!"

Kenny laughed. Bebe hit him.

…

"Are you asleep now?"

"No."

"How about now."

"No."

"Now?"

"Nope."

"Are you asleep now?"

"Yes."

"No you're not."

Kyle turned to his side to look at Stan, who was sitting on the floor, head resting on the side of the bed. "I'm pretty sure I can manage falling asleep on my own. You should go home."

Stan looked up at Kyle. "I can't."

Kyle sighed grumpily. "Okay, your shoes should be out of the dryer by now. Again, I'm sorry."

"Nah, not that. I can't go to sleep on my own. I need you."

"Clingy much?"

"Your fault for not calling."

"You do know you're allowed to call me too, right?"

"It's not the same."

They sat in silence for a while.

"Hey," asked Stan. "How sick are you?"

"Enough."

"No, I mean, are you vomit-sick? Fever-sick? Delusional-sick?"

"Well, I threw up on you, so that one."

"Do you have a fever?"

"I dunno."

"Here." Stan leaned toward Kyle and pressed his lips against Kyle's forehead.

"What are you doing?"

"Sh," Stan said, muffled against Kyle's skin. "Mom said that because your lips are more sensitive, they are more accurate at reading fevers."

"Mama's boy."

"Says the human burrito!"

"Whatever. So what's my temperature, Doc?"

"101.2."

"Woah! Are you serious?"

"No," Stan grinned. "I'm not a thermometer, moron."

Stan left his lips on Kyle's forehead. Kyle chuckled.

"You should go. I don't want you to get sick too."

"I don't care."

Stan pulled away. Then, out of curiosity, he kissed Kyle's nose.

Kyle didn't move.

He kissed Kyle's cheek.

Kyle didn't move.

Then, experimentally, Stan brushed his lips on Kyle's.

Kyle didn't move. Stan left them there.

Kyle sighed. Stan kissed his bottom lip and didn't move.

Stan thought they had stayed like that forever by the time Kyle's lips finally parted and he kissed him back. Stan bit back a maniacal grin and slowly deepened the kiss. When he felt Kyle respond, his heart fluttered and he held Kyle's neck to gain purchase.

Kyle pulled away. "Seriously," he said weakly. "You're going to get sick."

"I don't care." Stan climbed on top of the covers and kissed Kyle again and again. "I really don't care."

…

_Two Days Later_

"I told you you were gonna get sick, idiot." Kyle held a spoon of soup to his boyfriend's lips and smiled.

Stan grinned. "Totally worth it."

**Hah! One climax (almost?) reached! Two (or three) to go! **

"**Why does Wendy sing Come Sail Away?" Because I thought it would be adorable if you two shared a quirk like that. "It's stupid." Shut up, Cartman. Go sit in the corner and be emo about your break up. "Jew bitch."**

**Question: Have you ever had the awkward deal with your best friend where at least one of you is totally in love with the other? How'd that work out? (Not well, my chilluns. Not well at all)**


	10. The Ring

**Sleepy panda is sleepy. But I made this for you! So read and enjoy. Next chapter is the finale!**

**Thank you, as always, to the reviewers of awesome: aamandapalmer, Darkslayer18, RedInkMagic, Todd Moth, ScreamingInsanity and SKYE. **

**I do not own Butters.**

_Prom Countdown:_

_4 Days: 6 Hours: 17 Minutes_

"I told you guys not to wait until the last minute!"

"Shut up, Kenny. We'll manage."

Stan and Kyle rummaged through the stands at the local formal wear shop. Wendy had tagged along as the discerning woman eye and Bebe ordered her boyfriend to watch them to make sure they didn't get anything stupid, like kilts or pinstripes or the wrong shade of black.

Wendy rustled through with them, picking out potential tuxedos and noting the ID code in her little notebook. She sighed in annoyance every so often and Kyle watched her cheerful smile flicker on her face.

"How about this one?" Stan held up a light gray jacket and grinned.

"Oh... Oh, Stan." Wendy shook her head at him pityingly. Stan's face fell and he put it back.

Kyle sidled up to him and kissed him on the cheek. "I thought it looked nice," he murmured. Stan smiled.

"I just don't see the difference between one coat and the next," Stan said. "They all look the same to me."

"Then you can go sit in the corner, Stan," Wendy snapped. "And you need to practice being gay!"

Stan squeezed Kyle's hand and went to sit with Kenny in the corner of the empty store.

Kyle waited until he saw Stan start talking with Kenny before he said a word to Wendy.

"Wendy? Are you sure you're up to this?"

Wendy smiled brightly at Kyle. "Of course I am! I love helping idiots shop for clothes!"

"No, I mean prom in general. Are you going to be able to do it?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Come on, Wendy. Don't play dumb."

Wendy sighed and scratched another ID code in her book. "It's been more than a month. I've had enough time. It'll be fine."

Kyle shuffled through a rack of white vests. "I'm sorry. I feel like this is my fault."

"Why, because you told him to go for it in the first place? Nah, you did the right thing. Even if we didn't start dating, it would have narrowed the suspect list for the police."

Kyle smiled. "You'll let me know if there's anything I can do, right?"

"Kyle. Really. You don't owe me any favors. Backing off Stan was the best thing I ever did."

"You think so?"

"Totally. How can you date someone who tried to start a farting contest with you?"

"Why don't you think before you say words?"

"Oh, that's right! Sorry!"

_Prom Countdown_

_4 Days: 5 Hours: 42 Minutes_

"Dude. Angry Birds rocks."

"Word."

_Prom Countdown_

_4 Days: 5 Hours: 12 minutes_

Stan helped Kyle button up his vest and adjust his jacket. They had been dating for more than a month now and Stan still got that secret thrill through his body every time they touched, making it difficult to help him get dressed without attacking him in the dressing room.

Kyle smiled happily and adjusted Stan's olive bow tie. Their eyes met.

"I love you, Stan Marsh."

"I love you, Kyle Broflovski."

"Today, boys!" Wendy's unwelcome voice rang through the dressing room and they sighed.

Stan opened the curtain for his boyfriend and they stepped out together. Wendy appraised them silently, from the simple single-breasted black jacket to the olive vests and bow ties to the loose black slacks. Kyle and Stan turned for her and linked hands, watching Wendy for her judgment.

"Meh," Wendy finally shrugged.

"Close enough!" the boys declared in unison, high-fiving.

_Prom Countdown_

_4 Days: 3 Hours: 46 Minutes_

"Hold _still_, you idiot!"

Cartman squirmed as Bebe tried to straighten out his tux. "This is your idea, not mine!"

"Well someone needs to fix you up before prom. It's just to make sure everything fits and I'll be out of your hair."

Cartman sighed and tried to stand still in his living room.

"There... I think that's good. Stand back, let me see."

Cartman took a step back and Bebe looked him up and down. It had taken Wendy and him three straight days of shopping around to find something that fit him this well. Of course, now that he and Wendy were broken up, he no longer saw the point in the perfectly tailored double breasted suit that hugged him, making him seem more hefty than blobby. But Bebe was cruel, so even if the vest was the perfect shade of blue to break his heart, even if the cuff links Wendy had helped him pick out lay abandoned on his dresser, even if, for the sake of symmetry, Bebe had refused to let him trade seats with anyone, damn it he was going to prom.

Bebe bit back an impressed whistle for Wendy's taste in clothes. Cartman didn't need to hear it.

_Prom Countdown_

_3 Days: 21 Hours: 32 Minutes_

Butters woke up very suddenly in a cold sweat. Daisies, he thought. I have to get daisies.

He fell back on his pillow with a sigh.

_Prom Countdown_

_1 Day: 4 Hours: 5 Minutes_

"Jesus, everything at the mall is so expensive right before prom!"

Bebe sighed and looked at Wendy sadly. "I know. We'll try to stick to bargains, okay?"

"Okay. So what are we looking for exactly?"

"Those Dr. Scholl's foot thingies."

"That's it?"

"Don't make it sound unimportant. I tried on my dress with my heels yesterday and I'll be lucky if I make it past the first hour without even dancing."

Wendy laughed. "That sucks!"

_Prom Countdown_

_1 Day: 4 Hours: 4 Minutes_

"So what's your budget?"

"$1200."

Stan and Kyle let out a low whistle and looked at Kenny. "How did you even manage that?" Stan asked.

"I let Cartman sell my organs on the black market a few times. It's still not as much as I'd hoped for, but I just need something simple, right?"

"You know her way better than we do," Kyle said.

"You're right. She needs a rock." Kenny frowned and looked into the glass case.

"Why did you need us?" Stan asked.

"Well, I don't need _you_ so much as I need Kyle. Your hands are too big."

Kyle laughed. "You know what they say about big hands."

Kenny ignored them and pointed a few rings out to the pretty shopkeeper. She cheerfully took them out and set them on the ceramic hand display.

_Prom Countdown_

_1 Day: 3 Hours: 51 Minutes_

"He misses you, you know." Bebe stared across the table at Wendy.

Wendy made an angry noise into her salad. "Why should I care?"

"I think you still have feelings for him."

"You're wrong."

Bebe laughed and crunched her salad. "I'm not usually wrong."

"The only feeling I have left for him is indifference."

"Warm indifference?"

"No. The icy cold indifference that gives him frostbite."

"Nice."

"Yeah."

Bebe chewed thoughtfully and swallowed. "So why can't you say his name?"

Wendy paused mid-bite. "What?"

"You haven't said Cartman's name once since you broke up."

"Sure I have."

"Say it, Wendy."

"Bebe, I'm over him. I'm done with him."

"Done with who?"

"Trust me! I don't still love him!"

"Wendy, say his name."

"Really, you're being weird."

"Wendy."

"Okay! Eric Ca..." Wendy frowned at herself. "Eric _Car_... Eric _CAR... _CART... CART... Eric CARTMAN!"

Bebe shook her head sadly as Wendy beamed in triumph. "You're almost as pathetic as he is."

"I hate you sometimes."

_Prom Countdown_

_1 Day: 3 Hours: 47 Minutes_

"So what's the plan?"

"What do you mean?" Kenny was holding Kyle's hand and trying different rings on his finger as Kyle dozed softly in the chair.

"You know," Stan said. "Are you gonna do classic bended knee? Or song dedication? DJ announcement? What?"

Kenny looked at him, bewildered. "You mean I can't just ask her?"

"How many times do you want to get engaged?"

"Just the one. Why?"

"So shouldn't it be special?"

At this Kyle jolted awake as if by a nightmare. Stan jumped and asked him if he was okay.

"I... I sense a disturbance in the force."

"Really? Weird. We were just talking about how Kenny should ask Bebe."

"Oh," said Kyle, relieved. "That's the disturbance. Kenny, no matter what you do, do not listen to Stan Marsh about romantic gestures."

"Hey!"

"I mean it. For two weeks he scared me off with those gigantic aggressive gestures. Do not listen to him."

"I got you eventually, though, right?"

"Through trickery and deceit. And because I was already in love with you. Trust me, Ken. Bebe's a simple girl. She doesn't need the huge number."

"Yeah, but she deserves it." Kenny mused over the ring on Kyle's finger.

"Kenny, don't."

"Kenny do!"

"Go simple."

"Go dramatic!"

"Will you shut up?"

"Not a chance!"

Kyle sighed as Stan laughed. Kenny twirled the golden band around his finger, watching the light bounce in rainbows off the surface of the diamond.

"Know what, guys? This is the one."

**Phew! Coming up quick! Next chapter is the end! Thanks, ya'll, for reading!**

**Cartman, I don't even want to hear from you right now. I'm too sleepy for emo panda.**

**Am I, like, the only Benny fan out there? I love Benny!**

**Question: What the hell is Butters? Is he straight, gay, bi or something else entirely? For the life of me, I can't figure it out!**


	11. The End

**What? So late? How dare I! Sorry, you guys, new semester in college and all that. Summer classes are significantly harder. I apologize. This is the last chapter, so I promise I won't update late again. Lol!**

**Thank you to ScreamingInsanity, RedInkMagic, SKYE, COWKu, Darkslayer18 and Alexzandria. I love and appreciate you!**

**I appreciate all reviews, even after the story is done, so if you're new, rate. Review. Tell me I'm pretty.**

**Thank you all!**

At 8:00 sharp on June 4th, ten South Park high schoolers were ushered toward the back of a crowded restaurant by a terrified maitre d. Bebe, Wendy and Heidi led the pack, giggling and speaking at a speed only bats can understand. Kenny and Butters followed with Stan and Kyle, making small talk about how uncomfortable their tuxedos were. Cartman dallied sullenly with Annie and Emily bringing up the rear, staring sickeningly into each others' eyes.

The rest of the restaurant stared in annoyance because only teenagers can tolerate teenagers.

The maitre d, Andrew, sat the party at a perfectly beautiful table and Bebe handed him a green bill.

"Oh my God, Wendy, that dress looks incredible on you!"

"Oh, Heidi, that's so sweet! But really, you look stunning! Purple really brings out your eyes!"

"Thank you so much! Bebe, who did your hair? It's so perfect!"

"It was actually this guy on the other side of town. He's flaming, so you know he does a good job."

The girls laughed.

Cartman helped himself to another roll.

Kenny half whispered a few off-color jokes to Butters so Bebe wouldn't catch him. Butters blushed and giggled. Kyle playfully smacked him in the arm and turned back to fixing Stan's hair. Annie and Emily stared lovingly at each other.

Cartman helped himself to another roll.

"So, Kenny," Stan whispered across Kyle's lap. "What's the big plan?"

"I'm not doing it tonight," Kenny whispered back. "I need more time."

"Are you totally sure you wanna do this?" Butters cut in.

Bebe snorted in laughter at something Wendy said and Kenny smiled.

"I've always been sure."

"Dibs on best man!" Kyle whisper-yelled.

"What? No way, dick bucket! I'm totally his best man!"

"Yeah right, dude. I'm awesomer."

"Guys, can we wait till she says yes to even start thinking about the wedding?"

Cartman helped himself to another roll.

Andrew came by to collect drink orders. Despite the fact that no one at the table was 21, he was intimidated enough by Bebe to silently agree when she ordered a bottle of some fancy French wine or something. Cartman and Wendy accidentally looked at each other to share an eye-roll before they remembered they hated each other.

When it came, Bebe demurely filled her glass and raised it. "I would like to personally thank each and every one of you for the last twelve years. It's been an absolute blast and I love you guys so much. Except for Emily. She's only a name to fill out the table. Sorry, Emily."

Emily faded in and out of existence and smiled.

"And," added Kenny before everyone had a chance to drink, "I'd like to thank Bebe's boobs. You've really outdone yourselves tonight, fellas."

Stan and Kyle hooted and clapped as the girls laughed. Bebe kicked Kenny under the table.

"Fellas? As in boys?"

"You've heard them talk. They're totally guys."

"Oh, yeah."

Andrew came back to collect orders. Stan ordered for Kyle and Kyle corrected him gently. He ordered for himself and Kyle corrected him again.

"French is hard," Stan whined.

"What else could _salade_ mean, dummy?"

Cartman ordered the only thing he recognized and helped himself to another roll.

Wendy, Bebe and Heidi picked a carefully calculated moment to decide they all had to go to the bathroom and excused themselves. Annie and Emily went out to share a smoke.

When they were gone, Kyle and Kenny turned angrily to Cartman.

"Alright, dude. Stop it." Kenny poked Cartman in the shoulder behind Butters.

"What?"

"Seriously, man," Kyle said. "Knock it off."

"I'm way to uncomfortable right now to pretend not to notice you and Wendy being assholes."

"We're not assholes! Stop being dicks!"

"Well, it's not like he can help it, guys."

"Pussy," the three said in unison.

…

"We're not assholes," Wendy scowled at Bebe and Heidi.

"Wendy, you need a friggin chainsaw to cut through that tension."

"Look, I'm trying okay?"

"Well, try harder," suggested Bebe. "If you ruin prom I'm going to murder both of you."

Wendy carefully reapplied her lipstick. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be such a downer, I swear."

Heidi pointed at her. "Wendy Testaburger, don't you dare get emotional at all. If your face shows anything but contentment, your makeup is gonna smear all over the place and you'll have to spend another hour in the bathroom."

"Just contentment?"

"Yeah. No highs, no lows. Smiling will ruin it too."

"Being a woman sucks."

…

"Work it out with Wendy. If you ruin prom, Bebe will kill you. And me. Out of anger."

"Fine!"Cartman spat. "We'll stay away from each other the whole night! Butters, switch seats with me."

"Hold up," Kyle said. "What do you think working out means?"

"Not fighting, duh."

Stan and Kyle looked at each other and laughed. Kenny smiled and shook his head. Butters fiddled with his thumbs.

"Oh, Cartman," Stan giggled. "You have no idea how relationships work."

"Bebe and I fight all the time. It's totally healthy."

"It's impossible for two people to come together with zero friction," Kyle said. "The relationship is in fighting and loving each other all the more for it."

"But we're not in a relationship anymore," Cartman argued. "We broke up."

"So? Relationship is interaction. I'm dating Stan, but I still have a relationship with Butters and Kenny and Wendy. Even if you're broken up, you're still forced to interact with Wendy. You have a relationship."

"So be a man and fix it before we all die."

…

After dinner and a substantial tip on Bebe's part, everyone piled into the limousine. Mr Wong turned cheerfully to them.

"Shitty Limo, take order preeze."

"Just drive us to school," Kenny said. "Prom's in the gym this year."

The girls visibly stiffened.

"The gym," said Bebe. "That's so stupid."

"It's all we could afford," said Wendy. "No one took the fundraisers seriously."

"Still. It sucks balls."

Cartman opened his mouth to defend Wendy, but stopped himself. Stan and Kyle rolled their eyes.

Mr Wong babbled to himself in Chinese and Kenny slowly rolled up the window.

…

The gym was liberally decorated with garish balloons and streamers of all colors and kinds. Kyle smiled indulgently at Butters who excitedly explained how he and the Student Council had spent three days on it and Wendy smacked Heidi when she made a face.

Only a couple groups of students had begun to fill the gym.

"Shit," Bebe said. "I totally meant to be later!"

Kenny tapped her ass reassuringly. "I'm sure it'll be just fine."

"No one is ever on time to these things! No one!"

They filled the table. Butters sat between Heidi and Kenny, chattering happily about how cool the night was going to be. Heidi smiled indulgently and mentally pictured him in a dress and a deep purple gloss, maybe a little rouge.

Annie and Emily were swaying sickeningly on the gym floor to nonexistent music.

Stan and Kyle toyed with the tacky decorative glass sculptures, making them fight each other in a deadly battle of Beiber Fever. The anti-Beiberists were nearly massacring the "Infected."

Wendy rubbed her heel and Cartman watched her sadly.

Bebe was moving her arms violently when Cartman looked back up. "Move," she said, "over _there_."

Panicking, Cartman stood up and ran behind Stan and Kyle's chairs.

"No, not you, stupid," Bebe said, brandishing her little digital camera. "I'm taking candid photos of the couples."

Kenny stood behind her, worried. "Bebe, do you know what candid means?"

"Yes I do, I'm just making it better. Stan, get your tongue out of Kyle's mouth."

Cartman sighed and sat back down next to Wendy. She was making a point not to look at him while still being completely impartial to him. It wasn't very easy.

Bebe snapped a few pictures and yelled at Heidi to stop staring at Butters' chest.

"You look really pretty tonight," Cartman murmured.

They sat in awkward silence for a bit.

"Your fly's down," Wendy finally breathed.

Cartman swore and zipped his pants. When he looked at Wendy, the ghost of a grin drifted across her face. He blushed.

"You could have told me earlier, you know."

"I wanted to see if you'd figure it out yourself. And do you really think your Terrence and Philip boxers are appropriate for prom?"

"And Hello Kitty is?"

Wendy flashed a look of pure fury.

"Relax," Cartman waved. "You're wearing the pink satin bra. I saw the strap. You always wear your Hello Kitty panties with the pink bra."

"Why do you think it's okay to know this much about me?"

They were blinded momentarily by a flash of light. When they blinked the white away, they saw Bebe holding her camera, arguing with Kenny.

"See? I told you! Regular candid is not nearly as good as Bebe candid!"

Wendy blushed crimson and excused herself to the bathroom. Cartman swore.

…

The gym was half filled by the time the lights fell and the first song played. It was a drowsy little romantic number and couples held each other close, swaying awkwardly.

Most couples, at least. Stan and Kyle had made up their own little routine, involving lots of dice-throwing and sprinkler moves. The boys around them laughed. The girls glared.

"You're a terrible dancer," said Stan, playing some uncalled-for air guitar.

"You're not so hot yourself," said Kyle with an awkward moonwalk.

"I'm a great dancer. I'm just trying to dance at your level."

"Oh, please," said Kyle with a well-placed cabbage patch. "You're just as bad as me and you know it."

Stan suddenly grabbed Kyle's waist and pulled his face in close. Kyle squeaked.

"I'm a good dancer."

"No you're not."

Stan held Kyles waist in one hand and his wrist in the other. "I'm a good dancer," he said. Elvis crooned on.

Kyle smiled and let himself be steered for a minute before Stan tripped over his own foot, banging his head on Kyle's shoulder. Both of them swore loudly and the girls around them glared so hatefully Stan and Kyle were all but forced to gravitate back to their table on the outskirts of the floor.

Wendy had reappeared and was texting someone viciously. She had moved across the table from Cartman who was also texting someone. Every now and again they looked up, but never at the same time.

Finally, Cartman sighed and sent a short text.

Wendy opened a short text. She looked up.

Cartman stared at her self consciously, fingering the rose in his button hole.

Wendy sent a text back.

Cartman opened a text. He looked up.

Wendy stared at him, twirling a strand of hair self consciously.

Cartman sent a text back.

Wendy opened a text and sighed. She looked up.

Cartman smiled sheepishly. Wendy smiled and shrugged.

Cartman walked over to Wendy and proffered his hand. She took it gently and followed him onto the gym floor.

"What losers," said Stan, rubbing Kyle's head in his lap.

"Yeah. If we ever get that nauseating, shoot us." Kyle held Stan's hand and kissed his fingers.

…

Kenny and Bebe were dancing gracefully to Poison's "Talk Dirty to Me" when Wendy and Cartman met them on the floor. Bebe squeaked and stopped, grabbing her camera from Kenny's jacket pocket.

"Smile, you guys!"

"Again, baby, not candid."

Cartman grinned and kissed Wendy lightly as the camera flashed.

…

"I'm telling you, I'm a boy!"

"And I'm telling you, you look exactly like this girl I used to know. Like, to a tee."

"We've been in the same class for twelve years!"

"No we totally haven't, I'd have remembered!"

"Yes I have! Butters! Butters Stotch! Why doesn't anyone remember me?"

"Are you sure you aren't related to a Marjorine?"

"No!"

"Oh... Sorry. She was awesome, though."

"Heh. Justin Timberlake. Wanna dance?"

"Sure, why not?"

…

Bebe and Kenny swayed in place to Bryan Adams.

"I hate this song," Kenny said.

"Mm, you don't get a choice," Bebe grinned. She sighed and leaned her head against Kenny's chest.

"I get a choice in _some_ things, though. Right?"

"Not really. I mean, I'll be planning the wedding and everything. And I get final say in baby names and dogs and all."

Kenny reeled. "Wedding?"

"Yeah. I didn't tell you? We're going to get married. Why are you laughing?"

Kenny was, in fact, laughing. Loud enough and obnoxiously enough that girls around him sighed pointedly and their dates pretended to be annoyed rather than bored.

Kenny pulled Bebe into a kiss. "I love you, Bebe Stevens."

"You'd better. It's in your vows."

Kenny grinned and got down on a knee. He pulled a velvet box out of his breast pocket and looked up at her.

"Bebe, you batshit beautiful piece of magic, will you pretend I asked you to marry me first?"

Bebe laughed, relieved. She opened the box.

"What the hell is this?"

Kenny paused, alarmed. "It's... it's a ring."

"How much did you spend on this?"

"Does it matter?"

"Absolutely! Go take it back, I already have my rock."

Kenny stood up. "What?"

Bebe smiled and pulled the dull gray Hellstone from between her breasts by the ragged piece of rope necklace.

"Always and forever, Kenny McCormick."

"Always and forever."

…

The lights were rising slowly on a mess of a gym. Popped balloons littered the ground and a Mexican janitor whistled as he swept.

Only six people remained, sitting close at their table and talking quietly.

"I'm so glad you two are back together," Bebe grinned at Wendy.

Wendy smiled and looked up at Cartman. "Me too."

"God, I am going to _miss_ you guys," Kyle said. "How weird is it that we're all going away to college?"

"You act like we're never gonna see each other again," said Kenny. "Bebe and I are only going to be three hours from you and Stan."

"Chicago and Ann Arbor are still super far away."

"Bebe, you'll be coming to California for Spring Break, right?" Wendy's eyes were half closed against Cartman's chest.

"Is there any other place to be? How are you two gonna manage with Cartman in Arizona?"

Cartman looked down and brushed a strand of hair from Wendy's face. "We'll manage."

Stan grinned wildly. "You guys, we're graduating!"

Everyone hooted, half asleep.

"I mean, we're actually going off and leaving this messed up town!"

"No more Mecha Streisands!"

"No more singing poop!"

"No more wars with the Indians!"

"Native Americans, Kenny."

"Right, sorry."

Bebe smiled and leaned into her fiance. "Big things are gonna happen. I can tell."

Kyle smiled and held Stan's hand. "I think we'll be fine."

**Phew! Long one! Thanks for sticking with me or tuning in, as the case may be. Don't forget to review, the button is, like, right down there. Lol!**

**Cartman? Thoughts? "Not really. I'm tired." Hims is a sleepy man, neh? "Shut up, dick." Are you at least relieved it's over? "Yeah. I hate having to talk to you." Well fine! Be a dick! Whatever! At least I have a bigger penis than you! "EY! Fuck you, Jew!" There it is.**

**Final Question: When you were in high school, or now, as the case may be, where did you see yourself going in life? And are you doing it?**

**Love!**

**Hannah**


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